Guardian
by shards-of-darkness
Summary: "Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality." John might be dead, but he's still watching over Day and Eden. And with Metias's help, will he be able to save his brothers? Sequel to my other story, Sacrifice.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is the sequel of my other story, Sacrifice. This is about John's POV in Prodigy and Champion. I'd like to thank AwakeUnafriadAsleepDead for suggesting this idea.**

**Also, I have no idea how heaven is like and stuff (duh), so I'm loosely basing it on a mix of heavens described in various books such as the Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold.**

**There might be a few typos since I wrote this during my study period...**

Heaven is weird. Well, not entirely. I guess I'm still not used to it.

People used to say that when you die, your spirit lives in this perfect place. But you don't.

It's not what people said it was. There are no bright golden light and fluffy white clouds you walk on or a heavenly god smiling at you. There's no golden gates that welcome you in or a pit of darkness in the distance that represents hell. It looks like home, except everything is blurred.

Murky.

Sure, my heaven looks a lot like the slums on Figueroa and Watson St, but somehow, it's _better. _We don't need to sleep on hard beds, or wonder when our next meal will be, or if the soldiers will unexpectedly bust down our door. Because we're spirits. And spirits aren't living.

When I got here, I asked Mom how this whole heaven thing worked, and why everything looked the same. "It's not the same," she had explained. "It's something you can build. Your heaven will expand on your desires."

"Then why are other people here?" I asked, watching a few soldiers dressed in their pristine uniform and other poor beggars stumbling around.

"Because you share desires. The things you want cross paths."

I still don't get this concept. Or practically anything about heaven. All I know is this- (a) I'm dead, and (b) my parents are with me.

"Am I allowed to watch over the living?" I asked my father.

"Perhaps," he said, flipping over copper and silver coins and studying dirty green pieces of paper. "Look at this, John," he says excitedly. He holds up a coin with an eagle engraved on it. It has phrases like 'United States of America' and 'in God we trust' and so on. "It really existed," he repeats the same words he said years ago.

But I don't _care. _How can he be excited when Day is injured and on the run? How can he be excited when his youngest son has the plague?

I spin on my heel. That was my first desire- to find a way to watch over my brothers. There was always a road that kept endlessly continuing no matter how many days and nights I traveled. Then again, I wouldn't know for sure since heaven doesn't have time. Heaven is forever eternity. And I hate it.

"Where are you going?" a quiet, high-pitched voice asked me. I turned around. A girl with braided blond pigtails smiled. Some of her teeth were missing, leaving gaps in her grin. She couldn't have been more than seven years old. Younger than Eden. And yet she seemed wiser. There was something haunting about her mysterious golden brown eyes. They were too old for such a young kid.

But why? Why was a small child here? Here in the place for the dead? She's too young to dwell here. She was too young to die. She's dressed in strange clothes- a small flower print dress and a soft furry white sweater. My mouth feels dry, if that's even possible, as I ask her, "Who are you?"

Her grin widens and I can almost see her back teeth. "Melody," she chirps.

"I'm John," I say. I can feel my eyebrows creasing slightly as I ask, "How old are you?"

The girl pauses, pressing her lips together tightly. "I was six in 2010…" she mulls. And then she abruptly asks, "What's 2135 minus 2010?"

I think for a moment before blurting out, "125."

Melody's toothy smile returns. "I'm 125 years old!" I blink and stare at her. And then she jabs her finger at me. "I'm wayyy older than you!" All those years and her childish ways have never seemed to fade. And for a minute, I'm grateful for her innocence. But then it dies out. "Where are you going?" she repeats her original question.

"I'm trying to find a way to look over my brothers," I try to explain.

"You mean watch people in the real world?" Melody cocks her head.

"Yeah," I say, relieved that she can understand me.

"Oh, that's easy," she says confidently.

"How?"

"Look down," she simply says, pointing at the ground. Only, it isn't a dirt road anymore. I'm in the clouds, standing on some kind of glass. "Nothing's real here," Melody whispers.

"But how-" I begin to ask but when I turn around, Melody's gone. I curse under my breath. I take a step back. But there's nothing under my foot. And I fall.

I can't feel it though. I can't feel the cold air biting my skin or hear to the howling wind. I'm just falling.

People are walking past me, not even noticing my sprawled figure. I didn't even feel myself land. Getting to my feet, I melt into the crowd. I'm wondering why no one is giving me strange looks from falling from the sky.

I only realize when I stumble into a man and pass straight through him like a ghost. "Hello?" I call out, waving my ghostly hands in front of other pedestrians. No one sees me. I'm in a world where I don't exist. And I don't think this is where I want to be. Although it's useless, I call out, "Day? Daniel?"

"They can't see you," sorrowfully says a ghostly man with dark hair and golden flecks in his black eyes. "To them, we don't exist." He gazes up at the roof of a high tower, where two teens are sitting next to the chimney in the pouring ice cold rain.

The JumboTrons flicker on. And it says, **Daniel Altan Wing Executed Today By Firing Squad. **And for a second I think Day has been killed, until the screen shows me being shot at Batalla Hall. I let out a breath of relief.

"So you saved your brother," the man muses. Somehow, he seems familiar. "I wish I could save my sister."

"Your sister…" I begin to say.

"Is June Iparis," he finishes. "She and your brother are up there, you know." He gazes back at the two teens. My breath catches in my throat.

"That's John!" Day screams from the roof. "That boy is John!" But he's not looking at me. He's looking at the recording of my death on the JumboTron.

And then June's crying out from the pain as Day grips her injured shoulder. They say a few things, before holding each other while they watch the falling rain. The man stands next to me, murmuring, "I need to save them. I need to save them."

"I'll help you," I say as we watch our younger siblings. "I'm John, by the way."

"Metias," the man says. "And I don't need your help. Not yet." He begins to fade away.

"Wait!" I cry, but Metias has already melted into the shadows.

And I have never felt more alone.

**Please review! Should I continue this story?**


	2. Chapter 2

**First off, I want to apologize for not updating. When I started this story, I hadn't anticipated how hard school was going to be. I'm learning both Latin and Spanish which gets confusing because you pronounce the accents in different ways and conjugating verbs is also difficult for me. But now that the first term is over, I'm trying to set in a better schedule for updating new chapters. So I'll be working on that**

**I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed (it really makes my day when you guys review)**

****And to Guest Angel, thank you for informing me that I got the year wrong. I'm grateful you pointed out my mistake and I've fixed it.****

**I just want to say that Day's parents having no concern was intention because (a) I sort of want to get them out of the story until Champion and (b) I was thinking of this idea where most spirits don't really have emotions except John, Metias, and a few others. So in other words, most spirits just want to forget about their lives and move on. **

**So to repeat myself, I am so grateful for all the wonderful reviews I've got so I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Day's getting worse, his health diminishing more and more. And I'm scared that my brother's days are numbered. Because the sun has to set. The day has to end. The moon has to rise. It's life, and it's one thing I don't miss when I was alive. The fact that any day could've been my last.

Sometimes, I slip into Day's dreams. That's as far spirits can get to communicating with humans. Melody gave me some pointers before she completely disappeared. The thing is, Day thinks they're nothing but nightmares. I hate doing this to him, but it's the only way I can warn him. About what's coming. I don't have to be alive to know that there will be more walls for Day to break through.

I never wanted any of this. Never wanted to leave my brothers in danger. Never wanted to leave that world. All I ever wanted was for my brothers to be safe. We all make sacrifices for the people we love most. I guess this is mine.

I haven't seen Metias since the night I met him. I don't know where he is, what he's been doing, what he's about to do. He's disappeared off the face of the afterlife. A lot of spirits, like my parents, call him the Earthwalker. Because he spends more time slipping into human lives instead of celebrating his immortal spirit. I sure my story will end the same way. But maybe it will never end.

I stroll down the nearly empty streets, passing by others who look right past me. I've grown used to it these past days. I pass by restaurants and vendors, and I wish I could smell the scents of those different cuisines. Sadly, death has taken half my senses. I can see and hear. I can only speak to other spirits. And I can't smell or touch anything in the real world. But in my time here, I've realized that the dead are more alive than the living.

I'm on the streets of Vegas, where I pass by soldiers and their escorts dressed in party dresses and freakish costumes. That's how I couldn't find them in the crowd, even though I sensed their presence. June's decked out in a sparkly, red dress with mirrors hanging from her ankle. _Thirteen small mirrors- the number of the rebels._ Day's arm is wrapped around her shoulders, and he hides his pain with a drunk smile.

June says something that causes Day to flutter his eyelashes ridiculously. I smirk. Day, always able to charm a girl with his antics. I walk next to them, smiling softly and laughing along, even though they don't know I'm there. Now that I'm up close to them, there's something strange about Day. There's just a tingly feeling that his aura lets off.

Everyone on the street pauses as the JumboTrons flicker on. A solemn, loud voice begins the pledge. The rest on the street, including June, repeats the words. Day stays silent, only mouthing the hollow, devoid words. There are so many times when his pride is greater than his sense of survival. He gets it from our father. And I'm scared that it's his pride that will end him.

The pledge abruptly stops. Even I feel startled. The screens flicker and change, the old Elector vanishing from the screen, replaced by a young man, almost the same age as me when I died. The pledge starts up and the civilians immediately rejoin it. The elector is dead. Long live the next.

After an eternity (I can't really tell time), everything unfreezes- civilians return to their strolling, soldiers return to their duties. But Day stumbles, about to fall. He doubles over, and tries to mask his pain with false laughter. The soldiers are eying us and beginning to walk over. "Come on," June frantically whispers. But she's not strong enough to pull him to his feet.

I don't know what to do. For a moment, I think I can touch Day. My ghostly hand wraps around his arm, but I can't feel Day's burning skin. All I feel is pain. My hand immediately lets go of his arm and I jerk away from him.

And then the realization hits me. I can feel. I can feel _pain_. I take a small step closer and wrap my hand again. The hot spikes prickle and stab me. I don't think I've ever been more alive. I cling against his arm tighter, this warm surge suddenly flowing from me to Day. Strength. Power of the dead. Day's breaths loosen and he manages to somewhat get to his feet.

Meanwhile, the soldier has been talking to June, and she looks desperate, her dark eyes flickering around, trying to pull together a lie. "Hey!" shouts a girl with short black hair and a Republic uniform. "I _thought _that was you-I saw you stumbling around like a madman all the way down the street!" Who is she and how does Day know her?

Day flashes her a grin. "Missed you," he says.

The soldier asks, "You know him?"

The girl flashes a smile. "Know him, sir? We were in the same squadron our first year. Seems like he's been up to no good in the clubs again." She winks at Day, and June just seems disinterested in everything this girl says.

"Air force kids, eh? Well, make sure he doesn't cause another scene. I've half a mind to call to call your commander." The corporal hurries away.

"My barracks are close back," the girl says. "How about you rest there for a while? You can even bring your new plaything." Her voice sounds slightly hostile, or at least unhappy.

"Lead the way," says Day. They begin to leave, and I follow them slowly.

"You're wondering why you could touch Day, aren't you?" the deep voice suddenly asks. I abruptly turn around. "Metias?"

"Hey," he says casually, the corners of his lips twisting into a smile.

"Where the _hell_ were you?"

"Around," he replies. Again with that casual demeanor.

"Were you following me?"

"Maybe." What is with these one word answers?

I grab his shoulders. "I want answers right _now._ And don't even bother lying because I will know."

Metias shrugs it off, undisturbed by my threats. "Fine, I felt something that I wasn't supposed to. And I'm thinking you did too."

"The tingly feeling?" I ask, referring from when I was near Day.

"Yeah," he responds. "You felt it on Day?" I nod. Metias frowns slightly. "That's strange. I felt it when I saw the girl." He jerks his head to the retreating silhouettes of the trio. "The thing is, I only felt these when I was alive. Always when a person close to me was dying. Not many of us can feel it when were dead."

His voice sounds like its breaking. "I felt it when my parents left the house for the last time. I felt it whenever one of my cadets were murdered. I felt it…I felt it when I was close to dying. And I never realized it until minutes before I died. I never saw the pattern." The pain in his eyes is enough to reach out and choke me.

"I felt it too," I admit. "I felt it when my mom died and when we were trying to escape Batalla Hall. Does it mean that Day and that girl are going to die?"

"Maybe. Death muddles our senses. But…nothing is impossible."

I close my eyes. If Day dies, would my effort to save him in vain?

"That's not the only reason I came here. I need you to do me a favor."

"Anything," I say.

"I want you to find another spirit like us. Someone who can sense death. We just need one more."

"One more for what?" Metias purses his lips to lock in the secret.

"We just need to be ready." Metias begins to fade away.

"_Now _where are you going? You just got here!"

"I'm going to run a few errands." He smiles.

"You know that excuse doesn't work anymore!" I yell and the last remnant of Metias is his grin.

I turn back, sighing, before I drift towards one of Vegas' largest military barracks.

**I don't really know how to stop this chapter, so I'm just going to end here. It sort of might not make any sense, but I'm still trying to grasp how to represent someone's thoughts and action when they're dead. Anyways, if you can, I would really appreciate some constructive criticism or some of your thoughts on this story.**


	3. Chapter 3

"I want to show you something," says the soft voice of a young girl. Her flower print dress and white sweater are gone. She's wearing an old nightgown that loosely hangs on her narrow shoulders. Her feet are bare as she steps closer to me.

"What is it, Melody?" I ask her.

"I want to show you something," she repeats. The closer she gets, the more details I see of her. Small dark circles under her mournful golden brown eyes. Drops of blood on the collar of her white nightgown. Dried blood stained on her cracked, dry lips. Curly blond hair spilling down her shoulders. I'm wondering why she wants to look like this.

"Take my hand," she says. Her pale hand reaches out to me. I hold it without hesitation. I know better than to refuse.

Everything around us vanishes. We're on a moving train that's speeding across the barren land. Melody pulls me to the last car, where we stand in front of a tall glass cylinder. A blond haired boy lies on the floor. An oxygen mask covers his nose and mouth while IVs are poking out of his left arm. His eyelids are closed over his bleeding, midnight purple irises.

"Eden," I whisper quietly. "How….?"

"The longer you exist here, the more you find," Melody says sadly. "The more you find, the harder the truth becomes to hear." She looks boldly at me. "There are no secrets when you're dead. Everything unravels."

"I traced your aura to him and Day," she explains.

"Why couldn't I do it?"

"You're new here. You're weaker than most of us, so you can't go to two different places and watch over two different people. And…Metias made sure that you wouldn't find Eden. He built some sort of barrier on this train."

"Why would he do that?" my voice is sharp.

"To keep you from finding out," she says to me like I'm the dumbest person in the world. As if this whole situation was one-sided. "But I'm stronger than him."

I reach out to press the glass, but my hand slips through and I fall in. I wish I could hold Eden in my arms, embrace him and whisper that everything will be fine. But nothing is okay. Day's with the Patriots, Eden is the Republic's lab rat. And their futures…I can't even begin to fathom about them.

Eden's chest rises and falls, his soft breaths puffing and fogging up against the plastic of the oxygen mask. His blind eyes suddenly fly open. Eden's eyes are moving, but out of focus. "John? Is that you?" he whispers.

I freeze. How can he possibly know? How? "John," Eden whispers again as confirmation. "Is Mom here with you, too?" I swallow hard and turn back to Melody. She shrugs at me.

"Yeah, I'm here," I answer hoarsely.

Eden doesn't seem to hear me. He blinks again. "John?" A tear slips out of the corner of his sightless eye. It's strange how the blind can see more than others. "John, where are you?"

Something deep inside of me twists and wrenches away from my spirit. When I cry, gold light runs down my face instead of wet tears. "We should go," Melody says, tugging me away. I let her lead me away, because I can't take the pain. Maybe when I'm stronger. But right now, I'm helpless and useless to Eden.

* * *

><p>Metias is walking towards me. I calm myself from lunging at him with anger. A smile is on his usually stern face. "Hello," he says.<p>

"Hey," I answer back coldly. He doesn't seem to notice.

"Look, I've been meaning to tell you this…but I couldn't find you today."

"I was walking around."

Metias nods slightly. "Remember when I asked you to find another spirit like us?" I nod. "I think you should stop looking."

"Why?"

He hesitates. "It's becoming too dangerous and risky."

I narrow my eyes. "You're lying," I accuse.

"I am not!"

"There are no secrets when you're dead," I repeat Melody's previous words.

Metias scowls. "I want you to stop looking," he snaps. "You shouldn't be prying for info."

"Is that why you hid what was happening to Eden?" I shoot back. "Is Eden not my concern? Because for as long as I remember, Eden is my little brother, and you have no right to hide him from me."

"I did it for your own sake!"

"My sake? You think it would be better if I didn't know what _your_ Republic is doing to my brothers?" Anger surges through my spirit.

"Yes, I think it would be better if you didn't know. I already know how terrible the Republic and the Elector can be. And all of this could've passed by before you knew. But you peeked through the curtain and unearthed the mysteries."

"I needed to know," I say.

"Sometimes, it's better not to. That's why so many souls don't want to remember. That's why you and me are different then everyone else here." His eyes bored into mine. "Time goes on, and we'll all be soon forgotten. That's why souls shouldn't linger." He begins to fade until he is nothing.

I walk around, pulling together my thoughts and pushing aside my feelings. My anger has somewhat dimmed down.

Part of what Metias said is partly right. Time really does go on. It is forever, it is eternal. It is immortal. If Time was like a human being, then a blink of an eye, a heartbeat, a breath, would be equivalent to a million years. And we cannot stop it. That is why souls do not linger. Because we do not have the power and choice to make our legacy live on with Time.

This is us as humans and souls:

We linger.

We fall.

We love.

We hate.

We live.

We die.

We fight.

We are obliterated.

One moment we're here, and the next, we've never existed to the world. Our footprints are covered by layers of dirt and dust. The light we leave burns out. We topple down further and further as other lost lives pile on. And we're pushed down until even a whisper of us has perished.

This is the price of immortality.

**I just want to apologize if the chapter seems choppy….I wrote the end before I started the beginning, so it's a bit hard to mend them into something more fluid. I guess the ending's pretty weird too. I just love figures of speech/ overdramatically writing a sentence. And again, as always, please review and tell me what you think!**


End file.
